The versatile queen

Entry for Round 2 of "Defining Poetry: Contest"   by emerin-liseli

Two poems touched me this week: Seamus Heaney's 'Digging' and John Doone's 'To his mistress going to bed'. My poem is

inspired by the latter.
These lines struck me the most:

O my America! my new-found-land,
My kingdom, safeliest when with one man manned,
My mine of precious stones, my empery,
How blest am I in this discovering thee!
To enter in these bonds is to be free;

I liked the way Doone compares America to a woman. I too, have attempted the same.



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The train, with its horde,
Smiled as it sauntered in;
And amidst faces that coloured the din
I saw her beam,
Beckoning me to come,
And be led by her hand
Into her fields,
Fields fed by the nectar
Of rivers eternal and generous,
Some whispering, some roaring,
Their gaiety splashed in my eyes.
Children, running out of slate-roofed houses,
On slopes chased butterflies.

Enchanted I stood,
In love with my country, where beauty abounds.
Yet she held me by the wrist and turned me around;
Into cities we traipsed,
Where this sensual maiden
Revealed a bit more of her skin,
In towns where the urban drive
With both intellect and brawn
Toiled to create a better dawn,
Embellishing the crown of this queen.

And before I had seen enough
Of people perkily soaked in their jobs,
She drew me away,
And took me through a kaleidoscope;
I saw her warm, measured breath
Stream out amidst forests,
Where sounds collided and merged
Into a symphony sans a conductor,
I blinked and the orchestra was gone
I saw her run, her feet untired
On carpets of white in lonely heights.
Come with me, she said,
Feel my skin,
Touch my breath,
Explore my senses.

Evening came and ended our tryst;
As I walked away with the receding sun,
My love affair with India had only begun.